The Sexual Life of Catherine M. by Catherine Millet 8 min in Kensington Market Cum was in the air again. Dee had wanted to ask Kat if she had smelled it on their last evening walk but didn’t dare. Kat already thought she was loopy. It was even possible Kat Read more…
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins 8 min @ Salt on Ossington He was looking down at her kindly – even the cloudy left eye had a kindness to it. They’d been standing outside the “Done Crossing Market” for fifteen minutes. The night bus was always inconsistent. She kept telling him Read more…
Pigeon English by Stephen Kelman 8 min on the floor Being conscious her smile had been frozen without any further evolution in the expression, she took a sip of wine. She didn’t know what to say, she hadn’t gotten the joke . Joan was very adept at laughing along, joining in Read more…
How To Know God, The Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali trans. by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood 7 min on the Ossington 63 NB It is a photo, your standard school portrait, the kind that came in a split screen of sizes, from wallet to mantle. He has a small face with Read more…
Darkness metastasized. Bring more Light. This is an S.O.S. telegram. This is a prayer. This is an order. This could be an affirmation. Or a reminder – a Post-it™ for life. It is hard to see in the dark. That is philosophically self-evident. my shout-out to Julian Barnes. I’m trying Read more…
The Cat’s Table by Michael Ondaatje 8 min on the Ossington 63 southbound I remember the smell most. The sweetly rotting smell of dead. I was eight years old and I knew instinctively when I walked in that something was dead and the something was Bree-Anne’s hamster. I knew too, that Read more…
Macleans (May 28 2012 issue) 8 min @ Sunnybrook Hospital, D Wing The bottle is squat and clear although the liquid is a gritty murky brown. The masking tape label is more offensive to Lena than the odor. She knows this bottle is the reason she is so particular about the Read more…
The Book of Madness and Cures by Regina O’Melveny 5 min on the bed, Toronto The eight minutes felt like an eternity. Jocelyn sat still despite the starched lace poking into her skin. The first time she had worn the collar, she had stretched her neck to adjust it and the Read more…